Chapter 23: Epilogue

“Remember, folks,” Charity said to visitors eager to learn tribal dancing. “When you dance like an Apache, you’re calling upon the spirits.” She stood in the clearing in her feathered costume, with Sundance celebrants in their finest garb behind her. To her left, Celeste watched with a bright smile. “The last thing you want is to be a boring dancer!” she continued. “Nothing pisses off a spirit more than a lame dance! So when you skip and bounce you gotta do it with authority!” She nodded to the drummers, who began a low rhythm. Charity and her assistants stepped in time. “Don’t just scuff the dirt! Kick it! Make dust! Let the Earth spirits know you mean business!” She spun and skip-stepped, stomping her moccasins into the packed dirt. Behind her, the other girls mimicked her.

“Come on, people! Get stomping!” she ordered the crowd, and they began jumping and kicking up the dirt. “There you go! Get mad and kick that Earth—wake those spirits!”

Celeste covered her giggles as she watched delightfully. Nearby, her security detail watched closely for any threat to their ‘package.’

“Now wave those arms!” Charity cried out as she spread her arms wide and twirled gracefully. “Flap those wings like you’re trying to stir up a mess of wind spirits. That’s it!” she began weaving her steps in a tight figure eight as she stooped and stretched. “Keep stomping! Wave those arms! That’s great, everybody!” She began turning her head from side to side as she danced, glancing up and dancing as she spun and twirled. “Now call on those animal spirits! Move your bodies! Don’t just jump up and down like a pogo stick. Bend! Stoop! Look left! Now look right!” she called out to the crowd. “Whoops! You okay, ma’am? Don’t worry. Earth spirits are tougher than you think!”

The crowd laughed as an overweight woman picked herself up and limped away.

“Keep dancing!” she yelled over the panting and laughing. “Now, we gotta call on the Sky spirits. They’re way up in the clouds, so you gotta make sure they can hear you! Ready? Repeat after me! EEEEEeeeeyaaaa!”

The area erupted with similar cries.

“Louder!” she yelled, “EEEEEeeeeyaaaa!”

It was nearly deafening as they drowned out the music from the nearby loudspeakers.

“IIIIIyeeeeaaaah!” she cried, holding a hand to her ear as her ‘students’ echoed her.

“OOOOOweeeee!”

She grinned proudly as they screeched enthusiastically. She waved her arms, and the drums halted as she and her Sundancers froze. Most of the crowd continued dancing and spinning for several seconds before they looked up and stopped sheepishly.

“Great job, everybody!” she called out, leading the girls in applause. “I’m sure the spirits noticed us,” she grinned. “The entire fairgrounds did.” She beamed as the crowd of panting revelers erupted in laughter.

She turned to see her girlfriend approaching with a bright smile. “Oh, my word!” Celeste burst as she reached out to take the native girl’s hands. “That was so wonderful!”

“Uh, I’m not quite sold on ‘wonderful,’” Charity giggled as she put her arm around the taller girl and walked away from the clearing. “But they were enthusiastic.”

“Not them, you dolt!” the blonde girl retorted. “You! You’re incredible! I’m serious,” she grumbled when Charity scoffed. “You move with such grace and power. I was mesmerized. You’re truly beautiful!” She spun around until she was nose-to-nose with the brown girl. “I mean that.”

Charity blushed deeply and stepped up to kiss her. Celeste trembled from the contact and passionately returned the gesture.

“Whoa!” Charity breathed after they parted.

“Yeah,” the British girl replied breathlessly.

The Apache girl grabbed her hand and led her briskly through the main thoroughfare towards the main entrance. The venue had expanded greatly, with a long row of permanent cabins lining the perimeter along the trading booths.

“Where are we going?” Celeste asked, matching the pace with her longer legs.

“I need to get out of this costume,” the other girl replied. She stopped at the third cabin and removed a small chain that held the key from around her neck. Celeste nodded to her trailing security detail, and they took positions outside. Charity pulled her inside and locked the door. “Help me with these ties,” she said as she turned away, exposing the decorative bows down her back. While Celeste untied the catches, she kicked off her moccasins. “What’s with all the secret service?” she quipped. “I’m used to it with Uncle Peter, but those fellows look intense.”

“An unfortunate necessity these days,” the tall blonde sighed.

“Did you become royalty?” she sniggered as she slipped out of the costume and hung it in the closet. She turned back to the English girl, who was gawking at her, standing completely naked.

Celeste opened and closed her mouth as she felt her neck warming and her mouth suddenly dry. “Um ... or something,” she replied breathlessly.

Charity peered back at her and posed coquettishly with an impish smile. Then she padded back across the small room to her and raised onto her tip toes to kiss her again, letting her lips linger against the other girl’s soft mouth. She felt the blonde girl trembling as she wrapped her bare arms around her.

Celeste returned the embrace and delicately brushed her fingers up and down Charity’s bare back. “Oh my gosh!” she gasped.

“You okay, baby?” the Apache girl asked as she lowered herself and kissed the bare neck, causing her to shudder.

“I ... want you so badly,” Celeste whispered.

Charity stepped backward toward the full bed, pulling the blonde girl. She fell back, holding on to the girl until she tipped forward and sprawled atop her. She clutched her face and drew her down for another lustful kiss before tracing her tongue from her jaw to her ear. “Then take me,” she whispered back, opening her legs and hooking them around the trembling girl in her arms.

“Welcome, everyone!” Kathy called out, her voice amplified by the loudspeakers surrounding the stage and grandstands. “Welcome to the 1992 Winter Festival and Solstice celebration!” She stood center stage with a microphone as she addressed the packed arena. She wore a thin, loose-knit sweater that fell to her hips and did little to conceal her ‘bump.’ A long denim skirt fell to her ankles. The December air was chilly despite the noon sun, but she enjoyed the warmth of several radiant heaters aimed at her.

“There have been many changes since last year,” she continued. “For starters, we added a full day to the celebration.” There was applause from the crowd, and she smiled. “We will end every evening with a musical celebration. We brought in some incredible talent to entertain you, and I will perform as I open for these wonderful artists.” The cheers were louder, and she curtsied. “Oh my gosh! Can you believe the crowd?” she cooed. “With the second grandstand and twice as many bleachers, we can now accommodate over 6500 guests!” The response was deafening, and she laughed out loud, “Judging by your enthusiasm, I’d guess we’ve exceeded that number.”

She scanned the crowd and nodded at the newly raised seats for elders and VIPs. “Before I ramble, thank everyone for supporting our celebration’s growth.” In the front row, she gestured at the platform with Elders and VIPs, including the Quinten twins and Celeste. “When asked to be MC, I set conditions, and I’m thrilled our Elders have been fully supportive!” She let the applause continue for a minute. “By ‘us,’ I mean my amazing co-MC,” she grinned. “She’s hiding behind that jolly green giant Bradley and his beautiful wife, Sue Meadowlark, because she’s a chicken shit with public speaking!” A small hand appeared over Sue’s head, giving her the one-finger salute, sparking laughter. “There she is! Let’s acknowledge Cassidy Redfox, who we all know and love as simply Trink. She may be shy, but she has the energy and determination of a bulldog and is the best hairdresser on the reservation!”

She clapped toward the platform and grinned at her friends. “In addition to the extra day, we expanded a little bit,” she announced, smiling as the crowd clapped. “With proceeds from last year’s event and generous donations...” She smiled at the Quinten twins and clutched her heart. “We bought the neighboring lot for more parking, rental cabins, and an expanded camping and RV area.” She paused for the crowd’s reaction. “We also expanded the trader’s section, allowing Native merchants and craftsmen from all over the four corners to be included.” She paced the stage, occasionally rubbing her belly. “Speaking of Sponsors ... did you see that big ass warplane across from the main entrance?” The response was profound as she nodded. “That Gruman F8F Bearcat belongs to one of our sponsors and my dear friend, who flew that bitch for third place in the Reno Air Races last September! Give it up for Apache Bob Bodaway!” After the applause, she continued, “Starting tomorrow, we’ll have drawings for a chance to fly with a true hero in his yellow crop duster. He’ll perform live aerobatics twice a day. It’ll be a thrill ride you won’t forget.”

She paused, letting everyone settle before changing her presentation’s tone. “Last year, we started a tradition here that many Indee were at odds with.” She sighed. “I want to discuss this because it’s important to explain the heritage and the very special part of it that you’ll witness tomorrow at noon: the Sundance ceremony.” A smattering of applause followed. She turned to a group of young men in native attire on the stage’s right. “Gentlemen...” she prompted, and they strode across the ground before the stage in single file, each carrying a traditional bowl drum. “The Sundance ceremony is one of the most sacred among the Indee, and I’m honored to preside over it as an Indigenous woman who isn’t Apache.” She gave the men time to line up and kneel before their drums, then nodded as they turned to regard her. In unison, they bellowed a war cry and began drumming a slow, steady rythym like a resting heartbeat. The drums thudded in synchrony, filling the clearing with deep percussion. On cue, a line of young girls in the traditional flowing robes of the Changing Woman stepped from behind the stage, following the drummers who preceded them. Each girl followed the one before her, keeping several paces between them and maintaining a steady pace.

“The Sundance ceremony dates back to the origins of the Indee,” Kathy said. “During the four-day ritual, young girls of age partake in a strenuous dance every morning with the rising sun. During this time, they are neither child nor adult, wearing the robes and status of the Changing Woman.” The girls stopped next to the proceeding girl, facing the crowd until forming a line across the clearing. Another row began as more girls appeared. “After the white man arrived, this sacred ritual of transcendence was outlawed. Thousands of Apache girls were persecuted under Christian laws for practicing forbidden magic. Many were murdered for witchcraft.” Kathy’s voice faltered. “For this reason, the ceremony you’ll see tomorrow was and often still is performed in secrecy. Last year, we were honored to present fourteen young women who completed the ritual dances and shed their childhood to become women among their peers.

“The decision to share this private ceremonial ritual faced resistance from our community. The courage of these girls to perform publicly shows the courage and resilience of the Apache Nation,” she said as the second row formed and a third began. She continued talking over the rhythmic percussion, “This is the second year we present this sacred ceremony for you, and I’m proud to oversee it again. But even today, it remains a sensitive and private occasion. We faced resistance in preparing for this year’s festival. So, I will repeat it and ask ... no beg, everyone who plans to attend tomorrow to respect this most sacred and beautiful ceremony. No cameras are allowed within this area during the presentation, and you are asked to comport yourselves respectfully and remain quiet during the event.” She smiled warmly as the third and final row of girls assembled. “Anyone disrupting or disrespecting these young ladies during their performance will be escorted from the grounds.”

“And scalped!” a raucous female voice cried from the group beside the elder’s platform. Laughter echoed around the clearing.

“No, Charity!” she called back with feigned disapproval. “We don’t scalp paying guests!” She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing, “For many Indee, the Sunrise Ceremony remains an exclusive and secluded affair, often held privately within single-family units. Last year, we had fourteen brave and beautiful women blaze the trail, making the first annual ceremony a success.” She spread her arms wide. “This year, we have over a hundred! One hundred and twelve, to be exact!” There was a loud and long-standing ovation from the jubilant crowd.

“Each of these girls has completed the first three mornings of ritual dance for the ceremony of transcendence. Tomorrow, they’ll finish their trials and join us to demonstrate what they endured briefly.” She stepped off the stage, microphone in hand, and moved behind the first row, resting her hand on one of the centermost girls’ shoulders. “If you doubt their dedication or wonder how hard this is, try getting up early and dancing like your vaginas on fire ... for two hours! And do it for four days straight!” Laughter and giggles filled the crowd. “Let’s applaud these beautiful young ladies for dressing up again and presenting themselves to you. Give it up!” The crowd cheered. “And the drum troupe!” she gestured to the native men holding their drums.